


Come Mai

by aristos_philtatos



Category: Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Could be read as not gay I guess, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 03:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aristos_philtatos/pseuds/aristos_philtatos
Summary: Ross was a mystery that few could solve





	Come Mai

He spent an incredible amount of time studying.  
In his youth, but now as well.  
Every sickness, every patient, was a new study on the amazing mystery the human body was.

He'd been practicing for years now, and yet he still found himself looking at the body for answers to questions he never posed himself.  
Rosina's knee, for example, had been such a puzzle he still managed to figure by studying a real knee, the opportunity brought to him by the tragedy of a death on Ross's beach.

Ross.  
He had always been the subject of all his most accurate studies.

When they were at war, trying desperately to find a way to patch him up without ruining the masterpiece of his face.  
He had spent hours bent over the table, stitching so delicately, having to steer himself at every poking of the needle.  
Afterwards too, he had pestered the man constantly to avoid the skin patching up in an ugly scar.

"I don't want you to ruin my hard work"; he lied without batting an eyelid when asked why he took so much care of him in particular. Ross had smiled at him, like he could read the truth deep into his heart.  
And he wondered if perhaps he could.

Even now, after years in Cornwall, working for the miners, seeing Ross night and day, he kept studying the man, and learning something new.  
Like the way his eyes would sparkle when he had an idea, that was often brilliant, and even more often brought nothing but trouble.

Or the way he would try and conceal his feelings, but failed everytime to contain his enormous heart.  
Anger, love, pain, all shone brightly from his posture, from the look in his eyes, and nothing could contain them.  
Nothing could contain him.  
He was a storm that swept over all of them, destroying everything in his path, everything he tried to stop him from his purpose.

And that was the sweetest thing he learnt about Ross.  
His purpose was never selfish: he never sought more than he had, never lusted and pined over the things of the others.  
What moved him was outrage, it was the overwhelming need to stop injustice, to help people that society had brought to their knees.

How many times he watched him take bread from his very mouth, only because that bread could feed another person who had nothing else?   
How many times he spent hours pouring over papers, and maps, and money, to find a way to give new jobs?   
Opening mines, gifting fields, houses, creating work out of thin air just to help a person in need.

Ross was a mystery that few could solve, was a storm that few could survive. And all of them had to brave it, all of them had to get closer and closer to him, to stand in the eye of the hurricane, where it was quiet.  
Were they in danger of being destroyed? Possibly.  
But not by the violence of it all.  
Not by hatred and rage.

The thing that undid whoever stood too close to Ross Poldark, was the love for him.  
For this man with great ideals, this man who saw all that was wrong with the world and decided to solve it all by himself.  
This man that felt with so much intensity he became the very personification of the feelings inside him.

He was a dangerous man, all could see that.  
But this real danger of his, you only saw when you were too deep to get out.  
By that moment, you were already gone for. Already willing to go to the edges of the world for him, to offer all you had should he need it.

This was the biggest, most important thing he ever learnt, during his meticulous study of Ross Poldark.


End file.
